


Aftermath

by honestgrins



Series: Empty Promises [1]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Day One - fixing TO S5 canon, F/M, KCWeek18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 11:31:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15862755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honestgrins/pseuds/honestgrins
Summary: Post-TO 5x06, because I want to know what happened when Caroline woke up from that broken neck.





	Aftermath

Gasping awake in the passenger seat, Caroline cringed at the tell-tale pain in her neck. She squinted to see Klaus in the driver's seat with clenched hands on the wheel. "What happened?"

Uneven breaths startled her from the backseat; Hope was passed out, her face slack and wan. Worse, Caroline smelled a familiar decay. She glanced to the hatchback, a dusty sheet crumpled over something she couldn't quite see. "Klaus?"

"Hayley died," he explained curtly, "she saved Hope from that wretch I should have killed decades ago." As they drove through what she assumed was the bayou just after nightfall, his eyes shone bright gold. "I would apologize for Elijah snapping your neck, but I'm sorry to say that was the least of his offenses."

Caroline blinked while she processed the vague implications. Though tempted - nearly compelled - to comfort Klaus, she wasn't sure how to go about it. "I'm okay," she finally said, rubbing absently at her still sore neck. "Is Hope-"

Klaus shook his head, all but vibrating with anger. "Exhaustion, she'll wake soon enough. Too soon."

His voice sounded so defeated it left Caroline heartbroken. On impulse, she pulled one of his hands off the wheel and folded it between her own. "I can't tell her," he admitted. "I don't know how."

_Like she knew any better_. She did her best to keep her daughters safe, made easier through a supportive community rallying around the school's mission. The only lingering trauma in their lives so far was the loss of Jo, which was abstract at best outside of Alaric's memories. Not only was she out of her depth, Caroline and Hayley had a cordial relationship at most - hardly a helpful perspective for mourning a loved one lost. So, she tried the next best advice. "You figure it out," she answered, her tone soft in worry. "All you can do is be there for her. Hold her while she cries, help her deal with whatever comes next. Find her a good therapist, I don't know."

"She needs her mother," Klaus argued, careful to keep his volume low for fear of waking Hope while Hayley's body still lay so close.

Caroline squeezed his hand. "She needs you, too. More than you know." She bit her lip, deciding whether to share. "Hope asked me about you, you know."

Frowning, Klaus met her eyes. "It was when Hayley first brought her to Mystic Falls," she said, her fingers nervously toying with the ring on his hand. "Hope was nervous, not sure how to connect with the other kids. The social atmosphere was fun and exciting, but it also wore her out. Adults were easier for her. She was used to adults."

He looked back at his daughter through the rearview mirror, frown deepening. 

Caroline continued, lost in the memory. "I hadn't realized she snuck into my office until she shoved a picture frame in my face, one she'd pulled from my bookshelf."

"You ought to be more aware of your surroundings, sweetheart," Klaus admonished.

Rolling her eyes, she lightly pressed a nail into his palm. "I get it, you're a bajillion years old and I'm the naive baby vampire."

He licked his lips, dimples making a slight appearance in his cheeks. "It's been more than a decade," he pointed out. "And you've been through more than most young vampires. Not all villains are so enthralled by sharp words from a pretty face."

"Enthralled?" she teased. Klaus actually relaxed into a smile, a small one, but it made her feel better. The frantic, weary and untethered hybrid was scarier to her than memories of seething expressions and venomous fangs. "Whatever, let's just chalk it up to Hope's stealthy gene pool."

Klaus let his thumb stroke the skin of her wrist. "What was the picture?"

A blush rose in her cheeks. "It was a letter," Caroline answered. "Your letter. Hope saw your name, was deeply curious. Nosy like you." Maybe it was silly to keep the note, but her grandma's antique silver frame was just collecting dust in storage. Age begets age, she figured, and even she could admit a reminder of his gift and utter belief in her abilities was an ego boost. When Hope found it, the note of accusation in her voice left Caroline wondering how such a little girl could live with such suspicion built into her veins. Not that she could blame her; Klaus was the boogeyman for a reason, and enemies lurked everywhere.

But Klaus wasn't her villain, and that was a tough story for Caroline to explain to his daughter.

She heard him swallow, though she didn't chance looking up at him. "Anyway, she asked how I knew you. She wanted any and all stories I had. I gave her what I could, because she loved you and missed you." It hurt when her own father left for Georgia, chasing love and a dream that couldn't include her. For Hope, the situation was compounded by horror and guilt and all those emotions too heavy for tiny shoulders. Caroline could only hope Klaus was finally ready to help lift that burden. Call it foolishness, but she thought he was. "Now, she has  _you_."

"What if I'm not enough?"

It was Caroline's turn to frown. All her conviction meant nothing if he didn't believe it, and motherhood had honed her pep talks for tough love. "You're what she has, so buck up. One parent is better than none, take it from a child of a nasty divorce."

He glared. "Not the same."

Shrugging, Caroline glanced back to Hope. "I think the lesson still applies. Maybe check out the therapist angle for real, work things out with a trained professional." Klaus gave a helpless chuckle, taking her by surprise. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he tried, only for her to poke his shoulder. His wistful smile turned sad. "I actually had one for a while, when I first returned to New Orleans. She died, too."

Her mouth pursed, his expression painfully familiar; it was the same one she wore when talking about Stefan. Echoes of grief rang hollow in her chest, and Caroline found herself squeezing his hand more tightly in comfort, for both him and herself. "I'm sorry."

As they pulled into the city, Hope twitched in the backseat. Klaus sped up, hoping to reach the compound before she fully roused. "I need to get her home, I need-"

"We'll get there," Caroline answered, not letting go of him. "We will." 


End file.
